


Losing a Gamble

by aspiegirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depressing, First Kiss, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiegirl/pseuds/aspiegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel goes out on a limb. It doesn't pay off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing a Gamble

He doesn’t understand what went wrong.

Castiel sits on the cheap duvet of the cheaper motel bed. To an outsider, it would appear that he is observing his hands, but Castiel sees none of his surroundings, not the beer bottles, the flannel shirts, the duffel bags full of salt and weapons that are the mark of the Winchesters. All he can see are the expressions that flickered across Dean’s face, from lust to confusion to his look of stony determination, where he finally settled in the second after Castiel kissed him. The expressions had passed too quickly for a normal human to see, but for Castiel, every agonizing change, every muscle twitch, is perfectly preserved, on endless repeat in his mind.

Where did he go wrong? The question plagues Cas. It had been Dean who had initiated the slow build up to this moment, Dean who was always staring at him, standing closer than anyone else, even saving him from Alistair. He had read a book about body language he found in Bobby’s house. At the time, he had been trying to understand what Dean had meant when he had talked to Cas about “personal space”, but as he read the book, he happened to read the section about flirting. At first, he did not understand it. It seemed complicated and confusing, even more foreign than the other strange mannerisms of the human world. As time moved on, however, and Dean moved closer, and Cas better understood what people meant by “emotions”, he realized what was going on. He had gone back for the book, read it better, and poured over the progression from flirting to romance. Over and over, the book told him that the defining moment between the two, when the relationship moved to a higher plain, was with the first kiss. So, Cas had decided to try it.

They were in the cheap motel, somewhere in California, having just finished one job, still looking for another. Because they had nowhere to be, Dean had agreed to stop to let Sam see an old friend. He was planning on spending the night, and although Dean had his misgivings, he agreed to let Sam visit, provided he text Dean every two hours. By the time they reached the hotel and had checked in, Dean was hungry, and had gone out to get some food. Cas had spent that same time deciding to act. Sam was gone, and he and Dean would be alone, which the book told him made people feel less awkward about displays of affection. He sat on the bed and waited. About half an hour later, Dean came in, carrying a pizza box. “Man, that pizza place was-- hey, Cas, you alright? You’re look a little weird.” Cas had stood up, walked over, and pressed his lips against Dean’s. At first, it was awkward and uncomfortable, with Dean standing rigid and frozen. Then, he relaxed, his lips softening slightly against Castiel’s. The kiss was like nothing Cas had ever experienced before. He had seen people kiss on TV, watched Dean kiss Anna, among others, but this was different. It was soft, and sweet, and made Cas think of Heaven, before the war, when everyone was sure Their Father was watching them and guiding them. He felt Dean’s cheek with its light stubble under his hand, and didn’t remember putting it there. He could taste faint echoes of the cherry pie Dean had had after lunch.

Then, suddenly, all he felt was loss.

He opened his eyes, and saw those heartbreaking lines cross Dean’s face, changing him from the man who had kissed Castiel back into the man he had first known, the cold, hard man he pulled from hell.

Dean had left, silently. The first things Castiel registered after he saw those expressions that froze his heart was the slam of the door as Dean let it fall closed behind him, the roar of the Impala. Cas had stepped backward, stumbling away from that spot on the floor, where he had taken a risk, and lost. He moved away until his knees hit the bed, and he sat, collapsing in on himself.

He knew what Dean was doing. He could always feel, at least a little, where he was, what he was doing, if he was in danger. Usually, he could tune it out, pay attention to other things, but now it consumed his entire mind. He couldn’t stop the awareness that Dean had driven to the first bar he saw, and had already had two shots of whiskey in the few moments he’d been there. He knew that Dean was considering the woman who had been looking at him since he first walked into the bar. He knew she was blonde, and short, and curvy, with big brown eyes and full, shiny lips. He even knew, although Dean did not, exactly why Dean was looking at this woman. She was the exact opposite of Castiel’s vessel. He knew when Dean stood up, and walked towards her, and bought her a drink, exactly what would happen. And suddenly, he couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear to stay in this room where he had seen his deepest desires, the ones he had hidden from himself for so long, had flared so bright, then died, like a demon, under Castiel’s hand. He vanished, leaving the room abandoned and desolate.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the song Mr. Brightside. Thank you to CharlotteShay for the excellent advice, as well as finally convincing me to write this, and to my friend containyourselfladdie for all the comments. Thanks Guys!


End file.
